


theonsa tumblr prompts

by lazl (bravegentlestrong)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 17:36:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11879451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravegentlestrong/pseuds/lazl
Summary: Just Theon x Sansa mini fics. Feel free to request oneat @theons





	1. Chapter 1

Everyone is dead. But not them. They are alone – their families dead, everyone gone. He is not worthy. Not to love her, not to say her name. And still he sails forth to see her, who she is now, this Queen in the North. Sansa Stark. He doesn’t want her forgiveness. He just needs to know she’s okay. She can hate him, she can have his head if she wants it. But he is weak. He needs to see her, to know his one good deed had meant something in the end. 

She greets him like an old friend, and she doesn’t talk about what had happened in these castle walls. He sees ghosts everywhere, but she is not one of them. He’d expected her to be half-dead, like him, but time has healed her. She has a baby in her lap. He asks her who the father is, but she only says he’s dead. He has his suspicions, and she confirms them one night.  

“When I was a little girl, I’d always wanted some bard to write a song about me,” she says, and her smile is heartbreakingly sad. “Nobody will ever write one for me and Jon, or for him,” she nods to her son, in his bassinet. “Nobody will ever know about that. But they wrote one for us. How we saved each other. Have you heard it?”  


He shakes his head no, and she begins to sing. Her voice is so sweet it makes him want to cry. She is sitting beside him on a settee before the fireplace in her solar, so close she must see how solemn his face is. He doesn’t know if it’s pity or gratitude or if she’s somehow managed to love him as the moon turned, but she leans over and kisses him.  

He has loved her always, he thinks. He has thought about her as he looked out onto the sea from the bow of his ship. He takes her into his arms.  It’s a kiss that could on forever, he thinks. She has been his solace through sleepless nights, the prayer he says to will himself through days that seem to never end. And she is here, alive despite the slimmest of odds, and so is he. He moves to his knees and makes love to her in the only way left to him. 


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re taking Sansa to prom?” Robb asked.

His shock was evidently obvious in his voice, because his best friend sighed and said, “well, I heard her crying, and, I’m not the worst person to ever go on a date with your sister, am I?”

“No,” Robb said carefully, “you’re really not.” The first one left her for her best friend, the second was way too old (and rude) for her, and the third had spent more time looking in the mirror than he had at his sister. Not to mention the other weird older dude who was always sniffing around. Where did Sansa even find these guys? 

* * *

“Robb, I barely want you spending time with a Greyjoy, do you think I want my daughter dating him?” 

His mother had it all wrong. “Yes,” he said simply. “Joffrey, Sandor, Harry, Baeless…” his mother smiled at the nickname Arya had given her childhood friend, who had become fixated on her eldest daughter, “they were all men you couldn’t control.”

“Half of the Greyjoys are in prison, do you actually think we can control Theon?” Cat scoffed.

Robb was offended on behalf of his best friend, but yes, he did think he could control Theon. He’d only been doing it since kindergarten. But more than that, he had a foolproof plan.

* * *

“It’s not going to work,” his dad had told him, more wary than even his mother. After all, he’d been the man to put Balon Greyjoy in prison. But as Theon walked into the front hall in his tux with flowers for his sister, Ned Stark did as his son bid him anyway. 

He took Theon by the hand, and gave him one of his rare smiles. “I’m proud of you, son,” Ned said.

Theon did not think to question what exactly Ned was proud of. Instead, he simply melted. “Thank you,” he said, and then “I won’t disappoint you, sir.” The look of happiness on Theon’s face was unmatched even when his sister came down the stairs. Theon looked as though he was trying to fight back tears. 

* * *

When they’d left, Cat turned to him. “You were right,” she said, smiling proudly.

 Ned too looked at Robb, surprised at how easy it had been to win Theon’s heart.

“Welcome to the good ship Theonsa,” Robb said.


	3. Chapter 3

Robb’s ‘you better stay away from my sister’ mantra began as soon as she turned eighteen. He didn't really need to worry so much. Theon was a good friend, and not a total dirtbag. Hell, he even gave to charity. Sometimes. When prompted. When Robb asked him to come to Sansa’s sorority’s charity car wash, at least. He hadn’t even realized that this was a philanthropic option outside of porn, but there Sansa was, soapy and wet, with a gaggle of girls, smiling and waving at them.

“Oh my god,” Robb hissed under his breath. “Can I borrow your sweater?”

Distracted, Theon handed it over. He was feeling hot all of a sudden, anyway.

When Sansa approached their vehicle, Theon rolled down the windows and palmed her a wad of twenties. “So, what’s the charity?” he asked, an easy smile on his face. He met her eye, well practiced at using his peripherals to eye up the ladies.

“Abused animals,” Sansa said, nodding gravely. “Our sorority works with the ASPCA, it’s why I chose to rush with them.”

Theon nodded, “yeah, those Sarah Machlachlan commercials always get me too.”

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, but in Theon’s intense fixation on his hot little sister, Robb had gotten out of the car and put his sweater around Sansa’s shoulder. “Come on, put some clothes on,” Robb said. He pointed at the line of cars, “these creeps want more than a car wash.”

Sansa’s mouth fell open in shock, but Theon wasn’t entirely sure how she managed to be shocked at what an overprotective nerd her big brother was. Usually Snow had to be with them for Robb to be this much of a killjoy. 

“Are you really slut shaming your sister, Robb? It’s 2017.”

Robb shot him a glare, but Sansa laughed. “Yeah, Robb. It’s 2017.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You got something to say?”

“No.”

He shoots her a sideways glance. 

“You sure?”

The way he looks at her was unnerving. As though he knew differently. As if he already knew what she was thinking. As if he knew something she didn’t, and it was all a joke. 

She was used to not speaking out of turn, it had kept her alive this past year, but she feels bold now.

“You just killed them. All of them.” She’d watched Theon himself put a sword through Baelish’s belly before he’d spotted her and dragged her to his own cabin and left her there alone.

“Not you,” he points out. He waits for her to say more, but she doesn’t. “Lannister sails. This is war, isn’t it?”

“The war’s over. Robb’s dead.”

“Have you grown fond of your captors?” He asks, his brow furrowed and any trace of playfulness gone from his face now. Like he was judging  _her_. “Too soft for revenge?”

“Revenge?” she spits. He had no right. He’d abandoned Robb, he’d raided villages along the coast and his family had taken a castle or two. She remembered Joffrey bragging about it. It was her family who had fallen. “Since when do you care about Robb? You betrayed him. This is looting. You’re no better than a common pirate!”

Theon’s expression goes dark and a shiver runs down Sansa’s spine. 

“I suppose I am,” he finally says, his smirk back, but crueller now. “Stealing treasure, murdering poor innocent Lannisters, betraying friends… taking their little sisters as salt wives.”

She wants to look away, but she holds his gaze. It was Theon who looks away first, with a shake of his head. 

* * *

Hours later, he returns to his cabin. He  begins to undress, and she fears the worst. But he gets into bed with his smallclothes still on. She’s used to being afraid, but that’s not what this is. She’s torn between yelling at him, because despite everything that familiarity makes her feel safe, and fearing who he is now. Who he’d always been, more like. She’d heard her mother say it often enough – never trust a Greyjoy.

But before she can make up her mind he sighs. “I’m sorry, Sansa. You don’t need to be afraid, I won’t touch you. Just wanted to make sure none of my men did.” 

Sansa nodded in the candlelight. She contemplates his apology as he looks at her in the candlelight. “What’s a salt wife?” she asks, finally.

He cringes. “It doesn’t matter, just forget about that. I’ll get you back home, and if anyone asks you anything, just say you that you are.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, Freckles!” Theon calls after her. 

Sansa turns to look at him, and shields her eyes from the sun to look into his eyes. His dark hair was long and messy from the trip, and he looked nothing like the primped and polished fuckboy she’d sailed away with four months ago.

“What?” she yells back. 

“You forgot something.”

She needed to get home, but she supposed another few minutes wouldn’t make her mom any madder. She’d been gone for two months, leaving behind just a note with a lacklustre apology. Her mother had pleaded for her to come home the first time they’d docked and she’d called home. Good girls don’t just sail away without asking their parent’s permission. 

She walked back towards Theon’s boat and looked at the shell he was twirling in his hands. “That’s not mine.”

“A present,” he says, pushing it into her hands. 

She took the shell, and remembered him picking it up on a beach in the Keys. The day after the hurricane she was 99% sure would kill the both of them, and the thrill of being alive when it finally did pass. When she’d kissed him for the first time, and they’d rolled around on the mattress below deck for a few hours. 

She smiles, and looks up at him through her eyelashes. He’s staring at her in that way he does, gauging her expression before he speaks. He’s not good at being straight with her, but she doesn’t exactly wear her heart on her sleeve either. Neither of them had said the words on open ocean, so she wonders if that’s what’s coming now. She knows what she’ll say, she must have played it out a thousand times in her head when acting as her captain’s first mate.

But he doesn’t say anything. He covers her hand in his and brings it up to her ear. “Whenever you put it to your ear, you’ll remember me.” 

She listens, and sure enough, there it is, the sound of their summer lost at sea. You could hear the waves crashing. She let her hand drop and stuffed the conch into her knapsack. 

Before she goes, she leans over to kiss him on the cheek one last time before she faces the music. “I don’t need a anything to remember you by, I have you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa wasn’t a little girl anymore, and even her father knew she was on the pill, so none of them would be surprised she had a boyfriend or that they behaved like other college-aged *adults*. But they would all be surprised to learn she hadn’t gone off and found the Prince Charming she’d always dreamed of and instead hooked up with Robb’s “insufferable” best friend one too many times and accidentally caught feelings for the asshole. They would certainly be surprised that he was here, in her room, in her bed, naked and asleep, at 6am on Christmas morning. So was she. They had fallen asleep and she’d only reluctantly let him crawl in her window last night.

“Come on,” he’d said, “let me fuck you in your childhood bedroom.”

“The weirdest stuff gets you off,” she’d said with a sigh, letting him pass. But she’d be lying if she claimed his stupid sexual fantasies didn’t stir something in her belly.

And it had been good, trying to keep quiet so none of her siblings who had rooms on the floor found out.

But now Arya and Bran are knocking on her door. “C'mon Sansa, Rickon can only wait so long he needs to know if Santa brought him that Star Wars Lego.”

It was totally not worth it. “Just let me get dressed!”

She shakes her oaf of a boyfriend, but he seemed determined to have a lie in. “Wake up, you idiot,” she growls as low as possible, “you have to hide or you’re gonna ruin Christmas for Rickon.” That was a lie, Rickon wouldn’t mind. He adored Theon and didn’t truly understand sex, so would just assume Sansa was cuddling Theon as Sansa cuddled him when he snuck into her room when he had a bad dream. No, it was her mother they had to fear. She would pitch a fit, she’d been trying to banish Theon from Robb’s life for as long as Sansa could remember and now he was in her daughters bed.

“Oh shit,” Theon wipes the sleep from his eyes, “we must have fallen asleep.”

“No kidding.” He’d just been so warm and the air of the room had been so cold she couldn’t bear for him to leave, and then it had been too late.

Just as Theon was putting his pants on, Robb knocks on the door. “Sans, you know you don’t have to make yourself pretty for us. We know what you look like in the morning.”

“One second!”

Sansa picks up Theon’s shirt and shoes off the floor and throws them out the window with abandon. Theon’s mouth gapes open. “It’s really cold out there, you know.”

She puts her hands on her hip and glares at him, willing him away.

Theon sighs, as though he’s some ever suffering boyfriend and not eternally grateful for what she puts up with from him on a daily basis. “Fine,” he says, and hops out.

When she gets downstairs, Theon is sitting on the couch beside Rickon and her mother just looks tired.


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa Stark may be a serious woman, one who wore pantsuits and breathed PowerPoint presentations, but she had not married a serious man. After all, Theon had tricked her into naming their daughter Gray Greyjoy when she was still high on painkillers. So she should not have been surprised when he showed up at the law office where she was up for partner in an eyepatch, a pirate hat and their daughter dressed as a parrot in her baby bjorn.

A parrot with an eyepatch, Sansa realized, as Theon pushed through the glass doors into her office.

“Ahoy! I ‘ave yer files,” Theon said, pulling the folder she’d forgotten on the kitchen table from the diaper bag on his shoulder and sliding it across the desk to her.

“Thank you,” Sansa had to fight a smile. It’s not that she minded the costume. In fact, she liked it more than she’d admit. It’s just that usually he kept the pirate costume in the bedroom. At least he was wearing pants.

“Yer welcome.”

She leaned back in her desk chair and raised an eyebrow. “You know this is a business, right?” She had to ask. After all, his job as a model-slash-actor had never been particularly lucrative and she’d been paying their bills even before Theon had “retired” to be a stay at home dad. Not that she minded. She liked that he had passion, that he had big (if unrealistic) dreams. And she liked that he was always home at the end of the day waiting for her, not miserable and stressed, ready to distract her from the daily grind.

“Ye be knowin’ ‘tis talk like a Pirate day, aye?” Theon raised his eyebrow that wasn’t obscured by his eyepatch. “But me lady needed her spreadsheets.”

Sansa couldn’t help but smile, even if her coworkers were sure to ask why her thirty-five year old husband was cosplaying as Captain Hook. “Thank you for obliging me, Captain.”

“Anything for such a comely wench.”

Theon did a little bow, and Sansa’s eyes fixed on Gray’s face for the first time. Of course Theon was wearing thick eyeliner. The whole Pirate Sexcapades Thing had started when they’d just begun living together and Theon had come home from his dayjob – working as the entertainment at kid’s parties – dressed as Jack Sparrow. Of course, after the whole domestic abuse scandal Theon had started dressing as a much more generic pirate. But the eyeliner had stayed. But Sansa had not expected her nine-month-old daughter to be wearing such thick eye makeup.

“Theon, you can’t put makeup on a baby! Not unless you want child services to take her away!”

Sansa reached into her purse for her makeup bag, properly annoyed now.

“'tis talk like a Pirate day!” Theon protested.

“Parrots don’t even wear eyeliner!” Sansa sighed, realizing as soon as she said it that technically, pirates probably didn’t wear eyeliner either. They were just dirty. But that was besides the point! At least her mother wasn’t here to give her that smug I-told-you-your-husband-was-a-dirtbag look.


End file.
